


awkward times and lemon cakes

by glizzie



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And So Does Everyone Else, Awkwardness, College AU, F/F, Fluff, Margaery is a waitress, Modern AU, i love my stark children, sansa has a crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 04:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7742782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glizzie/pseuds/glizzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Stark brothers pick Sansa up after school. They are hungry. Their waitress is hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	awkward times and lemon cakes

 

Sansa has spent the whole week looking forward to this day, the last one before her Christmas break. It's not like she doesn't enjoy being in college – obviously. But the past three months have really been stressing her out, and she wants nothing more than to get back home, to her family and her dogs, to clear her mind and relax a little.

With her suitcase packed she climbs down the stairs of her dormitory and she's glad to hear a car's honk followed by a mixture of screams and laughter. She excitedly looks up to see her family car with all her brothers inside. They drove all the way from Winterfell and Sansa is grateful she doesn't have to catch the train all by herself. They will arrive home by night, and Arya will join them tomorrow, coming back for the holidays from her school in Braavos.

The Stark siblings are waving at her and trying to be as loud as possible to make the most of embarassing Sansa. To be fair, a lot of people are staring, but she doesn't actually care and just gets in the backseat, behind Robb who is driving. Jon, sitting next to him, launches himself onto her and almost crushes her ribs in a bear hug: “Sansaaaaa!”

“Fuck off!” groans Rickon, a casualty of the attack.

Sansa would like to say something as well but she can't breathe, so she settles with patting her brother's back and hoping he would, indeed, fuck off, at some point in life.

Robb punches his brother on the side and Jon lets go of Sansa with a surprised “ouch!” before returning the punch and sitting back on his seat.

“Thanks” breathes out Sansa, and puts a hand on Robb's shoulder. Her brother winks at her, then he grabs the steering wheel and starts the car.

“So, little sister? How was your last day in that hellhole?” he jokes, looking at Sansa in the mirror.

She just rolls her eyes, not ready to start another argument with Robb, who thinks that going to King's Landing to study is a waste of time, since there are plenty of universities closer to home.

“It was nice,” she answered, “so warm and colourful you wouldn't think we are even in the same continent as Winterfell”.

“I hope they cook warm and colourful food as well,” says Bran, who has kept quiet until now, “I'm bloody starving”.

 

 

They enter the diner making sure they're being the loudest people in the room. Rickon is sitting on Bran's lap as Jon pushes them both on the wheelchair, the three of them screaming something which resembles a war cry, and Robb has somehow managed to pick Sansa on his back, as she's too tired to even complain. They sit at a small booth, so they're all pressed against each other, and Sansa is sitting between Jon and Rickon, with Robb squishing Jon against her to earn more space for himself.

The table goes disturbingly silent as soon as they are approached by the waitress. Sansa doesn't have to look up to know she's gorgeous, judging by Rickon's gulp.

“Hey guys! What can I get you?” the girl asks with a friendly and polite voice, probably smiling, but Sansa is too distracted by the stunned look on both Robb's and Jon's faces to notice.

“Well... Margaery,” Robb starts, reading the nametag on the waitress's uniform, “you could start by giving me your number”.

“Seven hells,” groans Sansa, before burying her head in her hands with an exasperated sigh. She looks up to the waitress through her fingers and she notices the girl is looking at her with a grin, clearly amused by her comment. Her stomach flutters.

Sansa is an educated girl, she never intends to stare, but _the gods damn her_ if this girl isn't the most beautiful person she has seen in her life. Her long, brunette hair fall perfectly down her back in beautiful curls, slightly brushing against her light-blue uniform, which – Sansa notices letting out a choked sound – matches the girl's big blue eyes beautifully.

Sansa finally decides to look away when she hears embarassed little coughs coming from her brothers, but not without one last quick glance at the waitress. She is surprised to find that Margaery isn't freaked out or amused about her staring, but is now looking at her with her head tilted on the side and eyes wide with curiosity.

Sansa looks away again with a definitivee shake of her head, glad when auburn hair cover her blushing face.

Robb clears his throat and Margaery too looks away, grinning at the boys.

“So,” the waitress exclaims to break the awkward silence, “what can I get you?”.

“I'll have four hotdogs with fries and... your number”, Rickon says, at first really serious but ending with what he thinks a seductive grin.

“For the Gods' sake” Sansa hisses rolling her eyes, while her older brothers let out an amused laughter. Even Margaery laughs, and Sansa swears she has never heard a prettier sound. Yet she doesn't dare looking up again.

“Don't you think I'm way too old for you, young gentleman?” Margaery asks with a curtsy.

“You can wait for me!” Rickon insisted.

“Oh but you don't know me, my lord. I may not be your type” she states, ruffling Rickon's hair jokingly. In doing so, her hand brushes Sansa's hair, and the redhead is overwhelmed by how nice Margaery's wrist smells, which causes her to blush even harder.

At this point Sansa starts an argument in her head listing all the reasons why crushing on this girl would be wrong. All the right reasons, of course (such as ' _we are probably never meeting again_ ' and ' _I don't even know if she likes girls_ '), but how often have the right reasons stopped anyone from crushing on the kind waitress with the loveliest smile? Sansa is so deep in her thoughts she barely notices when Jon pats her shoulder to get her attention.

“What?”, she snaps, a little too loud.

“You haven't ordered yet” Margaery reminds her politely.

No pressure at all is forced on her and the awkward situation has lightened up, but when Sansa's eyes meet the other girl's expecting look she's completely taken aback and can't think of a better way to get out of the situation than blurting out:

“Lemon cake”.

“Just a lemon cake?”

“I'm... I'm not very hungry. I think.” which is not completely false, as just speaking to Margaery makes her want to throw up or run away.

“You think you're not very hungry,” the waitress repeats, with a tone Sansa can't identify. “Well, tell me if you need something. I'd better start going before little Bran and Rickon here eat the bloody table”.

Sansa's heartbeat starts going back to normal as soon as Margaery disappears from her view, then she sinks deep in her seat trying to prepare herself for her brothers' incoming questions.

“So...” Robb starts, barely holding back laughter “is my little sister crushing on the waitress?”.

“Look who's talking” snaps Sansa, who is getting redder by the second.

“Yeah but come on... that... that was just embarassing” Robb finally bursts out laughing and Jon has to punch him in the arm.

“Don't make fun of my little sister, bro”

“Oh, come on, she knows I love her” Robb winks at Sansa, who replies with an eyeroll. Almost two years have passed since the time she has gathered her older brothers and Arya to tell them she was gay, and as supportive as they all are of her, Robb won't stop teasing her every time he sees a cute girl. Sansa has come to terms with that, eventually.

“Back off! Margaery is mine!” Rickon protests, and Robb throws his napkin at him.

“Rickon, shut up” Bran orders “you literally don't stand a chance.”

“Neither do you!” Rickon sticks his tongue at him.

“How do you know she wouldn't like a ride... on my wheelchair, of course” Bran laughs.

“Bran!” Sansa yells, and then adds, with a lower tone of voice, “don't be gross”.

Robb looks defeated and just gives his younger brother a fist bump:  
“That was majestic, you deserve it”.

The conversation goes back to normal as the siblings catch up on each other's stories, until all of them look up when Margaery approaches their table again, flashing her bright smile.

Bran's face lightens up:  
“Hey, Margaery! I was just wondering if you would like a-”

“For the love of the Gods, shut up.” Sansa almost barks. Jon glares at Bran, agreeing with his sister, and the younger brother complies.

Margaery looks confused as she places a plate in front of Rickon, who bites on his hotdog and smiles at the girl with ketchup sliding down his chin.

Sansa is about to say something when, much to her surprise, Robb intervenes:  
“Rickon, please, this is not the way to behave in the company of such beautiful people,” he smirks at the standing girl, who just smiles.

Jon snorts: “And where does this come from?” he asks Robb.

His brother punches him in the shoulder and as Jon looks up he notices Margaery is looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a small smile. He blushes, and automatically brings a hand to his hair and starts tormenting a black curl.

“So... uh... come here often?” is the smartest thing that ever comes to his mind when speaking to a cute girl, and exactly what his brain decides to deliver in this very moment.

Margaery's eyebrows are both up now, and her smile has turned into a concerned one, as everybody else at the table is looking at him with the same expression and he hears Sansa muttering “what?” in disbelief and Robb letting out a sympathetic “dude...”.

“I... I work here, sweetie” Margaery simply says after a few seconds, her smile shining again on her beautiful face; she then gives Bran his plate as well and smiles when he thanks her with his best puppy eyes, then goes back to the kitchen.

“Dude,” Robb says again “what the hell was that?”.

Jon is the color of Sansa's hair now. “I don't know,” he sighs.

After a couple of minutes Margaery is back with Robb's and Jon's orders, and Sansa's dessert. Her smile is unfailing, and slightly wider when she accidentally brushes Jon's hand and he jumps on his seat, scaring Sansa to death and resulting in Robb falling off from the booth laughing. Margaery excuses herself and disappears one more time.

“Well, that was pathetic” states Bran from behind his triple cheeseburger, “you all should just drop the fight and leave her to me. After all, I am the cutest brother” he shrugs.

“I'm way more handsome than you, young man. And more experienced” Robb protests, recomposing himself.

“Listen, I have killer hair and I'm awkward. Girls love a shy guy” Jon joins the discussion.

“My hair is better than yours and you're _so_ wrong, girls love a guy who makes the first move,” Rickon steps in, “and I am that guy. So step down, really”.

“I... uh...” Sansa wants to join in somehow, but she can't think of any particular trait she could brag about. So she sticks to silently eating her lemon cake as she listens to her brothers scream around the table.

“Everybody happy with your meals?” Margaery asks, taking them all by surprise and almost causing Sansa and Jon to choke to their death. When her question is met with grateful groans and excited nods, she just smiles and walks away.

A few minutes later all the food is gone and, except for Rickon who is complaining about still being hungry, everybody is satisfied. Robb asks for the bill.

Margaery comes back and hands it to Robb, and he gives her a fifty dollar bill.

“Thank you for putting up with our crap” he adds with sincerity in his eyes and voice, and he hands her a twenty dollar tip.

“Oh!” Margaery exclaims, excited “it was nothing! All of you are very... charming.

“Thank you for not kicking us out,” Robb insists.

“I've had worse, really. But thank you! I'll be right back with your change” she takes the money and sticks the twenty dollars in her apron.

The siblings silently wait for her to return, distractly looking at the table in front of them.

“Very well, then,” Margaery's voice ringed through their ears like christmas bells “this is your change-”, and puts some money in Robb's hand,

“-and _these_ are for you”, she states, placing a plate containing a lemon cake and a folded piece of paper in front of Sansa.

“On the house”, she adds with a wink.

Five pairs of incredulous eyes stare at her as she dances her way to the kitchen and doesn't come out again.

Sansa reaches for the piece of paper with shaky hands, as if she were afraid to touch it. _'There is no way this is happening'_. She delicately picks it up and gently unfolds it, revealing a phone number followed by the doodle of a rose.

Sansa's heart has probably reached an unhealty pace, but she doesn't care. She smiles and blushes, and she brings the note to her face, inhaling deeply.

Yep, it definitely smells like Margaery.

 

**Author's Note:**

> hey. hi. I'm sorry for this. English isn't my first language and I hope I didn't mess anything up. so anyways i got the idea for this from that “you have no idea how satisfying it is to be the only girl at a table with five dudes who are all hitting on the waitress and you're the one who gets her number” tumblr post and I hope I did it justice? anyways. hey.


End file.
